Three Kings' Consort: Purity's Lament
by ChocolateCarnival
Summary: Prequel to Consort To The Three Kings: Lovingly compared to falling snow, the purest of hearts and gentlest of souls...there is only one eternal beloved that remains untainted by the claws of fate. His innocence is everlasting, his falling tears…purer than the springs concealed in long forgotten mountaintops and vibrant orange locks…softer than spun silk. His soul, eternally strong


Right my honeys, this is a surprise update and surprise story! It's the tenth today, five days until Ichigo's birthday and eight until mine so I've decided to write this in honour of Ichigo's birthday. Although it's fairly dark in content because of what it is, so this is NOT for the faint of heart. This is **the Prequel to Consort To The Three Kings**, the beginning of everything even though this is a mere one-shot under 10 000 words.

There are no true warnings for this story specifically, except for **heavy angst** and an **open ending**. The open ending is expected because it is the prequel to Consort To The Three Kings. It will be time to write the Sequel, Soul Ignition: Consorts To The Triplets Kings soon but depending on the response to this story specifically; I may write a two-shot for my own birthday next instead of that. I can't really tell because we'll have to see how my inspiration flows over the next few days.

This one-shot probably won't make much sense to those who haven't read Consort To The Three Kings but for my new readers, it should be enough to give a taste of what is expected in Consort To The Three Kings where most of the things in this is explained throughout the long multi-chapter fic. There is a lot of fluff in this too, I'm working with a four-year-old Ichigo so enjoy my honeys. I don't know what else to say, there isn't much more to add.

I'm rating this M because it's tied to Consort To The Three Kings and that fic cannot be listed as anything below mature. This one is fairly dark too with a dark ending.

For my Onee-san, may the sweeter parts of this bring you a little joy that you too are expecting these days. It's a bit late, I know, but it is a small token of my thanks to you for everything. I can't give much more I'm afraid but please enjoy.

* * *

**Three Kings' Consort: Purity's Lament**

_Lovingly compared to falling snow, the purest of hearts and gentlest of souls...there is only one eternal beloved that shall remain untainted by the claws of fate. His innocence is everlasting, his falling tears…purer than the springs concealed in long forgotten mountaintops and vibrant orange locks…softer than spun silk. His love is eternal. His soul, the source of no less than Three Kings' eternal strength, shall remain shielded and carefully protected from a tragic and painful past. There shall be no blood staining small hands, no whisper of old memories present within a young mind. But even so, the Three Kings' Consort yearns mournfully and constantly for the lost presence of his beloveds' comforting souls.  
Let it be lamented that upon this cold winter night, his sorrowful cries echo haunting across the eventide's vast depths…_

_Hush now, little one. In the approaching darkness you needn't look far for loving and gentle reprieve._

* * *

Soft flecks of gentle white was drifting lazily from a dark winter night sky, enveloping the entirety of Karakura Town in the blanket of that year's first snowfall as a howling wind flowed restlessly and mournfully through an intricate labyrinth of intertwined streets and a complex array of modern buildings. Bringing forth a cold, distant but beautiful pureness that could not be contained, the fast and heady approach of winter was upon the Human World within hours as the haunting touch of icy cold chased drifting flakes through the air and prompted their existence to dance to a soft rhythm of quietude and tender tranquillity. This was where the most beautiful time of year became harsh and distant, sealing off the rest of the world behind the walls of their homes and making sure to keep families curled closely together in search of tender comfort. For many, it was a great relief knowing that the frosty wind outside could never reach them. Only with their eyes could they look upon harsh white without knowing the pain of its chill, _without_ realizing the loneliness it ignited throughout the night sky and the lost souls that dwelled restlessly and valiantly beneath its touch. However, one such family wasn't so fortunate, they felt its icy tendrils and whispering loneliness for different reasons all together…

At the exact stroke of midnight, the quiet but humble atmosphere of the Kurosaki Clinic was abruptly shattered by the wailing and sorrowful cry of a small four-year-old boy. The oldest son of the close-knit family of five, calling out with such despairing cries and hiccupping sobs that his unknown anguish instantly served as a catalyst to startle a concerned mother and Pureblood Quincy into alarmed wakefulness within seconds. Dragging herself to her feet without second thought the moment she became able to comprehended the seriousness of the situation; flowing, hip-length brown locks cascaded in a waterfall of pure softness behind her as haunting honey-brown eyes struggled to blink away the harsh blur that clouded her vision and bare feet slid hastily into a pair of slippers before gliding near-silently across carpeted floors. A flowing lavender nightdress was conforming sensually to evocative curves, Kurosaki Masaki not even given a chance to reach for something warmer to shield against the cold outside her bed as she was in too much of a hurry to reach over her shoulder to seek her husband's help. She was merely whispering a silent prayer to the heaven's that night, hoping for once that her son's distressed cries did not disturb his few month old twin sisters from their easily interrupted sleep as he had been doing for the past few nights unconsciously.

She wasn't going to have enough hands to console all three of her little ones, especially not with her oldest clearly caught in the clutches of one of _those_ dreams again. Allowing for a breath of true concern to spill exhaustedly from parted lips, the brown haired mother headed directly towards the room that was situated right next to theirs as she made sure to shut the door of her own bedroom behind her. Knowing full well the consequences that Ichigo's unrest spelled for the household these days, there was no doubt in her mind that an overwhelming flood of intensifying and unsettled childlike reiatsu would be reaching out in search of _their_ powerful presence very soon. Blinking harshly against the bright and artificial light that flooded a familiar bedroom once elegant fingers flicked a switch against the wall, honey coloured eyes softened with deep unease when Masaki took note of her eldest that was curled up and crying beneath the light blue sheets and white duvet of his bed. In those few agonizing and heartbreaking seconds, it was almost as if he were hiding himself from something indiscernible but terrifying all the same. There was only a single flash of spiky orange locks noticeable to the outside world, his trembling form shaking the blankets with undisguised emotion as gasping cries of startling sorrow and uncontained fear echoed deafeningly in her ears.

This was _utterly_ soul shattering to watch, the sight a mere prelude to the overpowering sensation of Ichigo's flickering reiatsu that was somehow spilling over from his soul into his human form before it ebbed and flowed with erratic torrents against all four corners of his room. In all her life spent as a Quincy and living beside her Shinigami husband, Masaki had never once encountered a single soul that possessed such a vast array of unstable power as her precious son did. It could rush into the depths of a room in a single instant, the crushing force of its weight driving the unsuspecting to their knees with its raging intensity and then…it would simply evaporate into nothingness mere seconds later. That was the worst part of these uncontained responses, Ichigo did it all without any awareness of what was happening around him. It was what had forced Shiba Isshin to part with his gigai more than once over the last three months just to smother that unsettled power with his own, to dutifully shield the rest of the household before sheer chaos could erupt and bring unintended harm to those in close proximity. But this, she was sure, was because her little one was so young and carried a_ very_ powerful legacy upon shoulders far too small to comprehend its dark gravity.

As the reborn Consort to Hueco Mundo's three revered Mei-Ou (1*), Ichigo was bound to carry the weight of a painful past just as much as he carried the weight of all the commanding power that he had possessed in his previous life...which she had been told had been _very_ potent and all-encompassing of five eternal souls.

Masaki had also learned that when Ichigo's power became deeply unstable like this, it was because something was upsetting him both emotionally and physically. It was deeply painful for her to witness so frequently, _knowing_ that the rushing and out of control reiatsu was not something that her own healing abilities and Quincy knowledge could gently seal away and ease the pain of. And judging by the intense swirl of sensation licking erratically at her skin, forcing calmed breaths to shorten under its oppressive weight; they were going to have to awaken Isshin's shinigami form that night to assist in easing all that lashing reiatsu back into the four-year-old's soul. The intricate barrier that was constantly cast around their home was already starting to strain under the pressure, _regardless_ of Tessai having been the one who had cast it for protection against Soul Society in the first place. The kido master's barrier was always meant to keep their location and presence sealed, especially when it came to young Ichigo. He _had_ to be hidden from those who sought to hunt down his existence since the first night he had been brought into this world for the second time on the fifteenth of July four years ago. Kido barriers, unfortunately, _didn't_ last very long when the four-year-old became _truly_ unsettled.

The loving matriarch believed though, that it was the manifestation of the power that she herself had passed on to her oldest during this life. The ability to absorb reishi, gifted from the Echt (2*)Quincy blood that was threaded thickly through his veins, was literally eating away the invisible walls that had been erected solely for his protection—. Abruptly dragged from the depths of her thoughts by a chocked sob, honey-brown orbs instantly narrowed in concern as she urged her feet to move forward without falter. 'Ichigo?' She called softly, several shivers of anxiety racing down her spine as she crossed the threshold into her son's room and was forced to take in the sorrowful sight spread before her. 'Usagi-chan (3*)? My sweet little Usagi-chan, what's the matter? Did you have a bad dream?' Reaching forward to rest cool fingertips upon a shock of brightly coloured orange locks several seconds later, an array of consoling words spilled continuously from parted lips as Masaki desperately sought to ground her child against his unsettling distress. Leaving a four-year-old Ichigo to stir confusedly beneath the warm duvet of his bed, the call of his beloved Okaa-san's voice instantly instilled a deep sense of familiarity within him as large, sorrowful chocolate brown eyes (the exact same hue as his father's) peeked out from beneath the sprawl of covers with lingering fear.

A lilting voice was calling out to him over and over again though, rousing the small orangette from the confused pain that was streaking overwhelmingly against his forehead and caused glazed brown eyes to gaze bewilderedly into his mother's gentle eyes as a quiet whimper of fear echoed softly passed lush strawberry red lips and several glittering tears of pain dragged a sorrowful path down plump, childlike cheeks. The small four year old eventually nodded an answer to the inquiry that his mother was making, leaning forward instinctively when cool fingertips carded through his hair several seconds later and he blinked indolently against the harsh light that was flooding his previously dark room to increase the discomfort he was already feeling. Okaa-san was still talking to him tenderly, asking several questions that he couldn't hear. So he stayed stubbornly silent, casting dazed eyes downward shamefully before promptly seeking to burrow himself further and further beneath the warmth of his duvet as several hiccupped sobs became muffled in the small space of comfort that he had unknowingly created. His heart was racing erratically and painfully in his chest, a soft cry echoing passed strawberry red lips when he felt the bed abruptly dip beside him and a soothing palm came to rub his back through the duvet in gentle patterns meant to ease his confusion.

'Do you want to tell Okaa-san why you are so upset, Ichigo?' Shaking his head in the negative harshly, tear glazed chocolate brown eyes clenched shut in emotional strain as small hands curled restlessly in the fabric of the sheets and he slowly but surely edged towards the gentle warmth on the other side of his impromptu wall of protection. The small orangette was not sure if he could tell of the many frightening and horrible things he had just seen in his dreams, several distressed shivers chasing erratically across tanned skin the moment that Okaa-san reached beneath the rumpled covers and tenderly guided his small form out from under it and straight against a warm chest. He was struggling to focus on anything in those moments, leaning forward restlessly as crystalline tears were quietly wiped away by gentle fingertips and clenching fingers wound restrictively through long wavy brown locks that had fallen over Kaa-chan's shoulders. He had buried his nose in the folds of soft lavender pyjamas too, unconsciously taking in a familiar scent as cool fingers continued to card gently through spiky orange locks that flopped teasingly across his forehead and skittered across flushed cheeks in a familiar pattern meant to throw large chocolate brown orbs in shadow and carefully conceal intense emotions that should never be present within a four-year-old's eyes.

'K-Kaa-chan! K-Kaa-chan!'

'Hush now, my little rabbit. You can tell me your fears, I won't laugh at you, I promise.' Even when Okaa-san's gentle voice implored him to tell her why he was so afraid, Ichigo still couldn't describe or even put into words the strange sensation that was curling painfully through his gut and the horrifying images he had just witnessed. Of the dark red splatters that had stained white snow, a tall figure draped in white robes with a menacing black horned mask and flowing snow white hair that had reached all the way down his back to swish and sway with every move that he made. A being that the little orangette had not been afraid of, _despite_ how frightening his appearance had been. No, what made him so afraid…so _desperately_ afraid_ for_ the white haired being…was what had happened to him. He had been fighting with a shrouded black clothed man in the sky, their forms so fast that they couldn't be seen but for the sparks of dancing blades and clashes of crushing power that had rocked deeply into the night. Waraji clad feet had used the sky as their platform, the beautiful white sword that the white haired being had possessed, having created large crescent moons of pitch black and blood red that had chased endlessly through the heaven's in unstoppable paths.

It had been _so_ beautiful, so entrancing that the instant that a hidden shadow had crept up from behind and dragged a strangely shaped blade deeply across the white being's back; Ichigo had felt his little heart shattering at the sight. The sickening red that had stained white clothes, falling onto a blanket of snow in splatters below…a whimper of fear instantly tumbled from plump lips as the orangette recalled the event that had thrown him into harsh consciousness several minutes ago. He simply couldn't understand what was happening anymore, _why_ his dream had felt so real. It was like he had been there, _watching_ terrified as everything happened without him having the ability to call out, to scream, to cry… He had not even been able to close his eyes against the harsh images either. A series of hitched wails were escaping his notice now, Ichigo's heart twisting painfully in his chest when it felt like something painful was cracking open within him. Even when he knew that he was safe within the arms of his mother, he was finding it _very_ hard to forget the sense of loss and pain that was taking over his heart. Despite Okaa-san's gentleness enclosing him in a tender embrace, her slim frame rocking backwards and forwards to ease his upsets; he could only cry anew with despair when she sang softly and continued to reassure him of her warm presence.

'It hurts, Kaa-chan! It hurts!' He wailed fearfully, pressing his forehead against a soft chest as a warm palm rested firmly between small shoulders and tried to ease the tension that knotted them so harshly. _Why_ was his heart hurting so much? Why did nothing around him seem right anymore? Was he missing something from deep inside him? It was painful, really painful and Ichigo really couldn't understand these sensations anymore. He wanted to scream and cry, to never feel anything like this _ever_ again and as small fingertips gripped the back of Okaa-san's nightdress; he still could not keep his dazed and confused thoughts from turning to the white haired figure from his dreams. So scared, he had been _so_ scared that_ he_, _his_ white haired angel, would fade away into nothing and—.

'Shhh. Hush now, Ichigo, _please_. You're going to wake your sisters like this. Tell me what's wrong please? Are you in pain? Tell me where it hurts and I'll see if I can help.' Ichigo didn't know how to answer those questions through his rising frustration, a frown furrowing tangerine brows as he gripped a light blue pyjama shirt where it was lain over his erratically beating heart. Eventually quieting down slowly when cool fingertips rested against his forehead tenderly, he was quite startled when Okaa-san laid him back against the sheets and soft fingertips brushed a comfortingly pattern against his chest meant to ease the pain. It wasn't working! 'You are very warm, Ichigo. Where else does it hurt?' Unable to summon the strength to move, Ichigo whined his answer softly as a throbbing ache skittered powerfully across his forehead and that strange twist of sensation invaded the pit of his stomach again. Glad that he no longer felt too afraid because something was distracting him, Ichigo called pleadingly for his mother when she swiped away trickling tears from the corner of curling black lashes and wiped his running nose with a soft tissue. 'It's distressing seeing you like this, little one.' Kaa-chan breathed softly, prompting Ichigo to close his eyes when a warm nose rubbed against his own and a cool forehead came to rest against his to measure the temperature of his skin.

'I love you, my little Usagi-chan.' Revelling happily in the whisper of affection that tickled the shell of his ear, the small four-year-old was left reeling when her warmth suddenly withdrew from around him and instantly caused him to panic anew. 'It's alright, Ichigo. I'm just looking for your slippers and a warm jumper. You have a fever so why don't we go wake Otou-san hmm? I'm sure that he can make you feel better. And if you're a good boy, I'll make you some hot chocolate before you can go back to sleep.' Slightly fearful of being told that he would have to go back to sleep after a dream like _that_, the small orangette became very reluctant to slip his feet into the bunny slippers that he had been given for his birthday. He wasn't given much of a choice though, a warm cream jumper tugged over his head before Kaa-chan settled fluffy white slippers on his feet for him and her soothing voice hummed a lullaby to hush his rising upset. Ichigo was sniffling softly in his climbing distress, not even the promise of hot chocolate chasing away the fear that he felt about falling asleep again. Just as Okaa-san was about to walk forward and away from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, he eventually lifted his arms in askance to be picked up.

Masaki sighed softly at the familiar motion, not able to deny her eldest his request as she settled him against her hip and chuckled softly when small fingertips instantly wound through hip-length brown hair before an overly warm forehead came to rest exhaustedly against her chest. Abruptly frowning in confusion when her steady steps led her back to an empty master bedroom, the Kurosaki matriarch pondered the emptiness of her marital bed for only a second before she reached out her trained senses in search of Isshin's presence. Sensing out the direction of his presence fairly easily, she transversed the dark wood floors through two stories in order to reach the family clinic connected to their home. It was passed midnight however, so what the hell was he doing there? It wasn't like her beloved to stay up late to work, especially not when he could sleep instead. But his presence was undeniably detectable in that direction of their home, just as the muffled sensation of an extra kido barrier made itself known against the range of her carefully trained reiatsu. Humming soothingly when Ichigo started to shiver against her several seconds later, her quiet footsteps increased their concerned pace as she rushed forward with newly kindled haste.

With the way that things had progressed that night, she knew that only Ichigo's Shinigami father was going to be able to calm both a raging fever and lashing reiatsu that was leaking erratically from tanned skin in startling amounts. So, she did not think twice about twisting the handle that lead into the clinic. 'Isshin? Anata? Are you down here?' She called hurriedly, observing the light from one of the private rooms spilling across white tiled floors. Ichigo was mumbling sleepily against her neck by now, his exhaustion seeming to have overtaken his small body before she called out once more with frantic concern. 'Isshin! Answer me damn it! It's Ichigo, he's si—.'

'Don't open that door, Masaki!' The wavy brown haired mother may have stilled instinctively at the call of her husband's warning voice but her action had already been executed by that time. It was too late, a soft creak echoing into the cold winter night as a wooden door opened wide and she was left frozen in utter shock. She couldn't move, not even to bring up her own fingertips to shield her son's chocolate brown eyes from a blood stained and frightening scene spread out before him.

_Too late_, she realized. She was too late, _far_ too late to valiantly contain the reaction that she knew was coming.

**...**

It only took a single instant, an all-consuming rush of sheer power bursting forth from beneath tanned skin as its overwhelming presence stained the entirety of the Kurosaki family home and a wailing cry of_ pure_ lament echoed deafeningly into the recesses of the night. Forcing Masaki to tighten her grip around Ichigo's frantically struggling form before he could fall and hurt himself; large, childlike brown eyes zeroed in on the white clad form that was sitting on one of the clinic's beds. Time stopped. The small orangette not even aware of anything happening around him as his Otou-san moved to shut the door behind them and a complex chant he couldn't understand or hear, spilled into the air in the lilting sound a familiar and soothing baritone. The entire room was being engulfed in a glowing blue barrier, completely sealing them inside and keeping the outside world out but Ichigo couldn't spare a single thought to the happenings around him. All that he could see was a flowing, floor length white and black cloak that was stained with a large patch of red on the back. Long, hip-length snow white hair was spreading all around the ethereal form, falling forward over strong shoulders now as deeply intense golden eyes widened in concern against his gaze before Ichigo began to struggle in earnest to free himself from his mother's grasp.

_It hurt_, his mind screamed at him. His entire body was_ reeling_ at the pain as he wailed sorrowfully for his mother to let him go.

'No, no, no, no!' A small voice cried desperately, shimmering tears streaking a sorrowful path down flushed cheeks as the little four-year-old wanted nothing more than to go to the white haired being and make sure that he was alright. 'Okaa-san! Put me down! Onii-chan's (4*) hurt! Onii-chan—.' Why wouldn't Okaa-san let him go? He wanted, he wanted _so_ badly to wrap himself in those strong arms…to make sure that the beautiful Onii-chan from his dream was real but he_ wasn't_ allowed to. Kaa-chan wouldn't let him go! The instant that a stronger pair of arms tugged him bodily from his mother's surprisingly strong grip, Ichigo cried even harder when his father's strong presence completely took over the depths of his mind and carried him further away to the other side of the small room. Warm chocolate brown eyes were swirling concernedly into the range of his vision, spiky black locks tickling his forehead as a large palm came to rest against his chest and a flood of soothing warmth instantly sunk beneath shivering skin to distract the orangette from the painful ache exploding though his heart. Several despairing sobs were escaping his lungs with abandon, his chest heaving up and down with considerable strain as the white room spun in dizzying circles around him and Otou-san eventually sat down on a chair to cup a fever flushed cheek in the palm of his hand.

'Ichigo! Look at me, please.' Flinching instinctively at the sternness that was present in that usually playful voice, chocolate brown eyes instantly connected fearfully with his father's when a smooth forehead came to rest against his own and warm breaths puffed teasingly across his cheeks every few seconds. The expression that was crossing Tou-chan's face was one that Ichigo had not yet seen before, it was making him reel internally because there was no playful smile, soothing words and teasing laughter to greet his _very_ fearful gaze. He whimpered softly, feeling as if he had done something wrong but he didn't know what or how to stop it. Strangely though, he felt fiercely protected where he was. It was like the fear curling and twisting so painfully through his stomach couldn't reach him anymore as long as he stayed right where he was and a warm palm continued to push something infinitely soothing and warm into the depths of his soul. A calloused thumb was brushing the skin beneath his left tenderly, gripping a small chin and tipping it upwards before the small four-year-old could look down to observe the flowing green light that was encircling his father's palm and inquire about the pitch black and white robes that were enveloping Tou-chan's tall frame instead of his doctor's coat and normal human clothes.

But Ichigo was too confused and dazed to notice, caught up in the enveloping warmth that surrounded him so wholly as struggling sobs and flowing tears seemed to slow after several agonizing minutes and the ache across his forehead eased considerably in tandem to the beat of his heart that wasn't so painful to experience anymore. But despite all the panic and fear he had just felt, the small four-year-old had not forgotten about the being that he had seen or the need he felt to attach himself to in search of reassurance that _his_ presence was as real as his soul told him it was. The moment that he was tugged more fully against his father's strong chest; his nose brushed comfortingly against the soft fabric of Tou-chan's clothes as Ichigo listened intently to a soft heartbeat beneath his ear and Tou-chan's voice that rumbled quietly but soothingly in his chest. He couldn't make out the words though, they were too quiet to understand but he did shift restlessly in a warm lap so that he was straddling a steady thigh and could shyly gaze over his shoulder without tumbling from his perch. Small fingertips had wound desperately within a black kosode and white haori, large chocolate brown eyes searching for his white haired angel with a desperate need to reassure himself that all the blood he had seen had only been a nightmare that had briefly entered his mind.

He was given his chance to take in the scene more fully when Isshin turned him around and simultaneously kept Ichigo trapped against a strong chest by pressing several consoling kisses to spiky orange locks and kept a restrictive arm curled around a squirming waist. 'Easy, Ichigo.' Tou-chan breathed softly. 'I just barely managed to settle your unrest, you can look at Ryuu now all you like but you have to promise me you'll keep calm alright?' Nodding obediently at those words, Ichigo cast his eyes over the white haired being that Tou-chan had just named Ryuu as he shivered softly in fear when he noted the blood staining those white clothes again. That _hadn't_ faded, the sickening colour had even crept into parts of those beautiful white locks as golden eyes collided with his gaze and he was given a gentle, reassuring, smile. Those strong features didn't seem to be in pain or any discomfort, though. They were calm and steady, pale lips parting for a slow breath of control as Ichigo became completely entranced when black waraji tapped gracefully upon tiled floors and Ryuu forced himself to stand. The tinkling sound of a broken chain was echoing hauntingly into the night air, a pure white daitō driven into the floor with the flick of an elegant wrist as the sword stood upright and black nailed fingertips cured around the hilt for several seconds of reprieve.

They lifted upwards not long after that, brushing aside a shaggy array of white locks that fell forward artfully into golden eyes and reflected the sea of black sclera that they were resting within. Small sections of interwoven vibrant orange had also become visible in a vast array of thick white hair, those colourless locks cascading like a waterfall of pure snow behind his back to brush evocatively against a tall, lithe frame as the Third King of Hueco Mundo paid no mind to the fabric of an inverted floor length Bankai cloak dragging behind him and the pleated folds of a white hakama brushing almost teasingly against pale skin. All that he could see and feel in those moments, was the childlike reiatsu of his beloved reaching out to him tentatively whilst under the strict seals that Isshin had just woven through the orangette's soul with complex kido chants and a flow of light blue reishi connected to the very walls of this room. There was a single brush of pain streaking across his back to interrupt his thoughts, _reminding_ him of the ruthless ambush he had encountered only a half-hour before and had forced him to seek out Isshin's help to heal his unexpected injury. It was strange but the King's rapid regeneration had been too slow in completing the process itself, a fact that was distressing as much as it was unusual but that was nothing that he could do about himself now.

It would _have_ to wait. The pain had long since faded _along_ with the deep cut that had seared into his back. The former Juubantai-Taichō's healing abilities truly were a valuable asset in any situation, unmatched in skill by anyone else in Karakura Town and it was only bonus that he was Ryuu's Oyaji just as much as he was Ichigo's father as well. That did not erase the fact that Soul Society's ruthlessness had increased exponentially over the last two hundred years since Ichigo's death. It was an understandable retaliation since the Winter War had left the Shinigami crippled with the loss of six Captains, Vice-Captains and five entire divisions. But it was a_ rightful_ punishment in the older being's eyes. They had stolen away the life of the Three Kings' most beloved Consort. Even now their previous fall wasn't enough to satisfy any of the Kings, and it would _never_ be enough. Their beloved little King may have been reborn four years ago, much to the delight and joy of them all, but they would never give Seireitei an inch of leeway to shatter the small soul they had sworn to shield and protect for eternity. Just as fate had ensured Ichigo's soul had been reborn two hundred years later, old enemies had once more started to conspire to topple the Three Kings from their rightful and unshakable throne as a result.

But it wasn't going to happen, Ichiru had already worked out several hundred impenetrable, strategic, plans to shield not only their beloved's newly born soul from Seireitei, but to protect the entire structure of Hueco Mundo just as Hichigo himself had made sure that all three of them were on constant guard duty in Karakura both day and night to protect Ichigo from any unexpected dangers that may lurk around dark corners. The only reason why the Third King had been injured that night was because Ryuu had run into some unexpected trouble. Ichigo's power when truly distressed was quite potent and distracting to experience in the middle of a fight. The transcendent connection that irrevocably bound the single soul that they all revolved around, to their own inseparable souls, was exceptionally strong in the moments that they needed each other the most. And the youngest of the three triplets had felt Ichigo's soul calling out to him with such desperation that it had stolen his concentration for several crucial seconds. They were going to have to do something about that sooner or later, however. Captains of the Gotei-13 did not patrol this world unless they suspected something already and for them to encounter one of their most hated enemies was going to look suspicious when the none of Hueco Mundo's Triplet Kings had any need to display a strong presence in the Human World either.

Allowing for a soft sigh to spill passed pale lips, Ryuu cast his increasingly concerned gaze over Ichigo's trembling form now. He looked _so_ small where he was, those large innocent eyes gazing up at him with pure awe as the long haired King came to a halt in front of where the little one was sitting protectively in his father's lap. 'Little Beloved? Why are you so unsettled, hmm? Did you have a bad dream?' Kneeling on the floor absently, a haunting array of white fabric spread in evocative folds around him as Ryuu lifted tender fingertips to capture an escaping crystalline tear falling from long curling black lashes. _So_ beautiful, he thought lovingly. Even when Ichigo was so utterly young and innocent, the eternal and all-encompassing love that they held for this single bright existence would never change. It could never change, they had been born of Ichigo's soul for the sole reason to eternally bind their souls together for the infinite stretch of time. Their love was transcendent, unbound by any restriction and it would remain _truly_ eternal. Ryuu was allowing a gentle flow of reiatsu to leak from his fingertips, brushing a soft cheek consolingly as he watched with rapt attention as lush strawberry red lips parted for a small contented moan and the unrest that had been present within the little one's soul instantly died down at the brush of the King's familiar power.

'R-Ryuu-nii…' A childlike voice called out happily, small fingertips resting against the pale skin of his cheek as the Mei-Ou was gifted a brilliant smile that betrayed the contentment that the little one seemed to be feeling at his close proximity. When small hands gripped fistfuls of snow white locks, interwoven with small sections of orange between; Isshin's amused chuckle served to snap Ryuu from the strange trance like state that he himself seemed to have entered in tandem to his Little Beloved. A sharp glare of reprimand instantly pinned the spiky black haired Shinigami with irritation, a teasing smile curling across the Oyaji's pale lips as sharp chocolate brown eyes sparkled with an irritating playfulness the Three Kings knew far too well. Large tanned hands were dragging tickling fingertips up the small orangette's sides, pulling the most delightful sounds of bubbling laughter from plump strawberry red lips that the white haired King knew were far softer than they looked. And as small arms wound around his neck for balance and a laughing four-year-old was passed into his lap by his father, Ryuu curled a steady grip around small hips so that Ichigo did not fall and he could happily revel in the sweet scent of soft childlike skin that was permeated with a rich miasma of scents that could only be likened to orange blossom, mint, chocolate and the fiery spice of cinnamon.

'Don't look so bewildered there my fourth son, you're ruining the happy picture that the two of you make. It's alright Ryuu, Ichigo doesn't know how to tell the difference between a human and a soul yet so he's not likely to get unsettled by the sensation of your reiatsu. Besides, he seems fairly content by your touch. All three of Hueco Mundo's Kings have the ability to ease his unsettled power, I can't tell you how many times I've asked Hichigo or Ichiru to step inside at night to calm him down when he has had a nightmare over the past week.' Narrowing golden eyes down into jealous slits at the implications of that claim, Ryuu hissed in pure irritation when he realized that his two older brothers had just_ failed_ to mention that little fact to stubbornly keep their time spent with little Ichigo all to themselves...the two bastards. If his hands wasn't curled so contentedly around a warm body and his lap not so _blissfully_ occupied by a little four-year-old that had stolen his soul and attention so completely, he was sure that a startling lash reiatsu would have just shattered the barrier that Isshin had worked _so_ hard to settled around this room! Dragged from the depths of his thoughts when soft lips pressed against his cheek with childlike affection and small fingers gripped a hold of his cloak-like kosode, Ryuu retaliated the action by brushing his own lips against a smooth forehead.

Vibrant orange locks were brushing his skin teasingly, displaying a style that was quite dishevelled and long for a small child. Messy orange strands were falling playfully into large chocolate brown eyes, concealing them from sight as teasing strands tickled vibrantly across playfully flushed cheeks in a childish reflection to how his beloved had worn his hair when he has been alive two hundred years ago. Ryuu was just about to inquire why Isshin had not cut it shorter but decided against it, black nailed fingertips coming upwards to card through messy orange locks that brushed playfully against the collar of light blue pyjamas. Small black rabbits were printed all over the blue fabric that Ryuu could see from the sections not hidden by a cream jumper, they were giving away the sweetness of the sight as fluffy white bunny slippers completed the adorable look that the Third King of Hueco Mundo was sure Kurosaki Masaki had spent a joyful day shopping for. Tenderly tickling the soft skin that he found beneath soft hair, a small smile crept across his lips as a warm giggle caressed his ears and he pulled the small child more fully against his chest so that he could stand. His beloved's little noises of contented joy were something he always cherished and even as he was now…he would always remain eternally beautiful.

To them, it would not matter what form he took, how old he was or how distressed in both emotion and power. The little Consort had all three of his beloveds wrapped around his little finger on any given day—.

'Masaki, if only Tou-chan had a camera to capture this moment…he'd be a very happy man.' The tinkling sound of soft laughter flowed easily into the atmosphere, Ryuu looking up just in time to see the door opening behind the brown haired mother before she glanced over her shoulder with a teasing glare. 'I bet you would, Old Man. But unfortunately a camera has not yet been invented to capture the image of souls. You'll have to ask your scientist friend to look into it. Come along then, Isshin. It seems that the commotion has awoken our daughters too. Would mind looking after Ichigo for a while, Ryuu? He's fairly exhausted so I think that he'll fall asleep soon. You can just put him back to bed, you know where his room is. I think that he'll find more comfort from your presence than ours at the moment.' When the two of them were left of alone in the clinic, Ryuu glanced down curiously as a smooth forehead came to rest against his neck and a soft voice called out to him with dazed confusion. 'It's alright, Ichigo. Your parents just went to calm your sisters, they haven't gone far.' After having picked up the inverted form of Tensa Zangetsu before preparing to track upstairs in the direction of Ichigo's room, Ryuu was surprised when chocolate brown eyes mere blinked at the presence of the menacing sword before he made himself more comfortable against the King's side.

'You're not afraid?' He asked, burying his nose in spiky orange locks as the tinkling sound of a broken chain echoed hauntingly into the night and a small head shook in the negative against his shoulder. The little orangette seemed to have fallen quiet in both queries and laughter after that, merely keeping himself pressed as close to the white haired being as he drew a large amount of comfort from the proximity of his presence. When Ryuu settled himself on the side of a small bed, the warm duvet and sheets settled back over shivering shoulders as he tucked his beloved against his chest; he paid no mind to tugging fingertips that were pulling on his hair again and seemed to trace the features of his face affectionately. There was a chuckle escaping his lips, those innocent chocolate brown orbs training once more on the elegant white daitō that was standing upright with its tip driven into the carpeted floor. Isshin was going to be upset again, he didn't like the holes that the Three Kings made in his floors when their swords were drawn but Ryuu would do it that night purely to spite the black haired Shinigami. Bastard Oyaji never asked _him_ to help settle little Ichigo's nightmares, but that may be because he had been keeping guard during the day for most of the last month instead of at night.

But still—.

'Will you stay with me, Onii-chan?'

'Yes, I will Ichigo. I'll _always_ stay by your side. Now close your eyes and go to sleep, you'll feel better if you do.' When a small head nodded obediently against his chest, Ryuu once more listened to the soft sigh that spilled from strawberry red lips and a small form curled closer to him than he thought was possible. 'Will you tell me a story, Ryuu-nii? About that sword?' Chuckling softly at the curiosity he could hear in his beloved's voice, the white haired being hummed thoughtfully as he leaned down to rest his forehead against a smaller one and watched entranced as hip-length white locks spilled over his shoulders to capture the two of them in an entirely separate world of their own creation.

'Very well, Little Beloved. I'll tell you the story about the beautiful Fire King that wielded a pitch black sword just like that one. He was very powerful and ruled over the Kingdom of Lost Souls where thousands of powerful beings bowed beneath his feet. Including his three eternal beloveds. But this Fire King was very special you see, he had orange hair that was coloured as brightly as the setting sun, just like you, and his name. His name was Ichigo too…'

* * *

Bleary chocolate brown eyes blinked open tiredly at the abrupt cold that caressed tanned skin, a small frown furrowing tangerine brows as Ichigo glanced around him to try and figure out why there was an infinite stretch of silvery sands spread beneath him and why a vast desert bathed in the light of a dim crescent moon opened up all around him when he had been listening to Ryuu-nii's beautiful voice telling him a very nice story mere moments before. Had he fallen asleep again? This was one of those strange dreams again, like the one Ichigo had had earlier the night too. Only, this time, he didn't feel afraid. It was almost as if he could feel Ryuu's presence close to his heart, filling up the aching emptiness within his soul as he ran curious fingers through flowing sand to settle his brief unease. The texture was soft and fine, the grains flowing like water between his fingertips as a soft breeze ruffled playfully through messy orange locks and he eventually pushed himself to sit up. How strange, his small frame was covered in an inverted reflection of the robes that his white haired angel had worn that night. Only, the cloak that was settled around the four-year-old was coloured a blood red on the inside instead of black.

Soft red fur was also curling playfully around small wrists, his ankles and the back of his neck. Just like Ryuu's-nii's had been black. As he eventually found his balance on small waraji clad feet, chocolate brown eyes scanned the vast horizon for anything recognizable that he could see. Something inside of him was drawing him forward instinctively though, chocolate brown eyes blinking lazily against the dim lighting that seemed to become brighter and brighter with every step that he took across soft sand. There was also the tinkle of a small chain echoing through the air, like the sound that the chain dangling from the end of Ryuu's sword had made. When the orangette glanced downwards to search for the origin of the sound, he was surprised by the pitch black chain that seemed to be connected to his heart. It was completely fused with his chest, forcing the little one to wince in pain when he tugged on the unusual bind to try and free himself from its grasp. The more he tugged, however, the more painful the ache inside his soul became. So he eventually stopped his task, several soft cries spilling distressingly from strawberry red lips as a flood of pained tears filled his vision and a brush of fear began to saturate the depths of his heart with every second that he felt impossibly alone and cut off in this strange looking world.

'S-Shit! This is—! NO! You shouldn't _be_ here, little King.' A haunting tenor called out painfully, chocolate brown orbs glancing over his shoulder to track the direction of that voice just as he took note of the dark form that was sprawled on the sand several feet away from him. A small breath hitched painfully in the four-year-old's chest, surprised fingers dropping the chain he had been trying to free himself from as widened eyes took in the sight that was spread out so hauntingly and frighteningly on the sand before him. It looked like pitch black flames were swirling restlessly around an ethereal being's prone form, engulfing the world all around him as the shadowed figure remained curled on his side almost as if to shield against an onslaught of deep pain and a vast mass of pitch black locks spread evocatively around his form like the waves of an ocean. Blood red eyes were connecting mournfully with chocolate brown, a strange grey mask settled on the lower half of the being's face as he pushed himself to sit up with great difficulty and observant childlike eyes took in a pitch black chain that was connected to _his_ chest too. Ichigo was completely frozen where he was, not able to take notice that it was the exact same chain that bound him up as well as he desperately tried to understand why _this_ black haired Onii-chan looked so much like Ryuu-nii did.

The two of them were like opposite copies of each other, only _this_ Onii-chan possessed a different hair colour and a skin tone that was a bit lighter than Ichigo's own—. Startled from the depths of his confusion by the sound of something hard cracking unexpectedly, Ichigo watched entranced as the hard material of that grey mask crumbled away to reveal a straight nose, lush strawberry red lips and the same tenor that had spoken before; echoed once more into this plane as the black haired angel held out silver painted fingertips to call Ichigo towards him. 'Come to me, little one, please. I can feel your pain, King. I am _so_ sorry that I cannot shield you from the influence of my power.' A mournful and regretful tone was creeping darkly in the older being's lilting voice, a single crystalline tear of undisguised sorrow falling from the corner of haunting black lashes as crimson orbs were utterly stricken at the flash of dark confusion that he could see swirling within chocolate brown eyes. Innocent and beautiful brown orbs were overrun with the heaviness of soul deep pain that one so young should _never_ have to experience. A soft sigh of guilt slowly tumbled passed Older Ichigo's lips, the black haired being intimately aware that the pain the little one was experiencing was a direct result of his own awakening presence and all the knowledge that he held from his past life.

The events from two hundred years ago was starting to merge more and more with little Ichigo's mind every single day that passed, opening up a connection to Hueco Mundo's Three Kings that he was far too young to understand or able to control on his own. The influx of pain and dark emotions that was flowing from the irrevocable bind between five souls was also starting to bathe the pure innocence of the little one with the dark shadows of a tragic past that the older of the two wanted to shield him from for as long as possible. And there was only one way to achieve that; biting teeth cut deeply into a soft bottom lip as the black haired Ichigo curled a desperate grip around the pitch black reishi chain that was connecting the two souls of their same existence together. When a small form crawled into his lap without fear several seconds later, the dark haired being swiped away the trickle of confused tears that dripped down plump cheeks as a broken sob lodged itself painfully in the back of his own throat. He _couldn't_ do it, he simply_ couldn't_ taint this soul with his darkness any more than he already had but he didn't _want_ to let the connection between them snap…_not_ now…_not_ when the little one was the_ only_ being in the world that could offer him a brush of comfort to ease his own anguish and dark regrets.

It was going to be _painful_, _so_ painful that Older Ichigo didn't think he'd be able to comprehend the scope of the loss that they'd _both_ feel or the repercussions that this was going to have in the future when little Ichigo awakened his own powers one day. But he was given no choice, startled from his dark contemplations when soft strawberry red lips pressed against his own with childlike affection before several more tears streaked down plump cheeks in response to his own wailing anguish that could not be contained _regardless_ of his own immense self-control. And it was the startlingly vivid reflection of centuries old sorrow gazing back at him through chocolate brown orbs that strengthened the older of the two's resolve. A startling flood of pitch black reiatsu was rising around his form protectively, his power climbing into the indiscernible heights of untraceable transcendence to all beings but the four souls that were irrevocably bound to the very existence that encompassed both Older Ichigo and his younger, much more innocent, counterpart. Mugetsu was a transcendent technique, meant to fill the heavens with power at the command of his fingertips. But to turn the technique upon himself, to sever the tie connecting to little Ichigo and fragment their shared soul, was something that Older Ichigo had never expected he'd ever have to do.

To _protect_ his ward, to _shield_ Ichigo from the pain of knowing too much until he had awoken his own powers…he'd bear the coming pain and loss for the both of them a thousand times over.

'**Forgive me, little King**. This will probably hurt for a long time until our beloveds can once more ease the pain of the loss. I love you, little one, never forget that.'

And deep within the depths of a small four-year-old's soul…a single call spiralled commandingly into the air with a whisper of pure regret and a scream of inconsolable anguish.

_**'Mugetsu!'**_

* * *

1* - Mei-Ou – Dark King  
2* - Echt – Pureblood Quincy  
3* - Usagi-chan – Little Bunny  
4* - Onii-chan – Is a respectable way for little children to refer to people older than them, because Ryuu is essentially 'eighteen' in appearance…that's the correct way that Ichigo would address him.

There you have it my honeys, all done. Thank you for reading, I really appreciate it. If I could receive a small review for my hard work, I'd be eternally grateful to you. I can't tell you what to expect next and when since I'm busy lately but it will probably be soon…hopefully.

That's it from me, it's a little cold tonight so I'm off for now.

Yours Always

Chocolate Carnival


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